


"But Isn't Angst Illogical?" Is Not Going To Work On Him, Jim...

by Hawkbringer



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Abrupt Ending, Aliens Made Them Do It, Dialogue Heavy, Emotionally Compromised, Experimental Fic Writing, Imprisonment, M/M, Men Crying, Mind Meld, Minor Spock/Nyota Uhura, No Smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Poor Spock, Sensitive James T. Kirk, Suicidal Thoughts, sorry but i ran outta steam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-18 13:41:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18251003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hawkbringer/pseuds/Hawkbringer
Summary: Jim and Spock are thrown into a cell on yet another mission gone wrong, and Spock is in terrible shape, emotionally compromised, sure of his impending death, the works. Jim tries his best to mediate the situation and reveals more knowledge about melding than Spock thought he possessed...





	"But Isn't Angst Illogical?" Is Not Going To Work On Him, Jim...

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was a real departure from the norm for me - I wrote it entirely in voice, by talking out loud to myself in front of my laptop microphone. Later, I transcribed it. Very little was actually changed in editing. So, they may seem OOC at times, but I like to think the dialogue is pretty fluid! (Written in 2012, before seeing Into Darkness, so some details are non-canon-compliant.)

Spock was crying. 

That was the first of many things that were greviously wrong with this situation.

"Hey!" Jim screamed at his captors as the door slammed shut behind them. He turned to Spock, who had curled up in a ball in the corner of their small, concrete cell, and moved toward him. He didn't dare touch his shoulder to shake him awake, as he had done scant hours before, when all this trouble started.

"Hey, Spock, are you.... Are you okay, man?" he realized, seeing that spock had not ceased crying, shaking, or, generally, freaking Jim out. "Oh. Oh, man." Jim shivered, turned to the door and screamed at it again, for good measure. "You bastards! You can't make a Vulcan /cry/! How dare you - do you have any idea what he's lost? He's never cried. How... how DARE you-"

"Captain," Spock hissed at him, from where he was hiding behind his hands. "Do not waste your ire on them. You shall need every ounce of you energy.... to get us out of here."

"Oh. Oh yeah, of course!" Jim nodded vigourously, now that Spock was somewhat functional again. He was very glad of that - 'Crying Spock' was not something he could deal with. "I've actually got a couple of plans already worked out. Um, what are we gonna need? Uh, a phaser--"

"Captain..." Spock's voice had broken again. It almost seemed like it was two different people talking! This one, this Spock was crying, he was... afraid! Jim could not deal with scared children right now, wearing the shape of his very capable First Officer, and he wondered breifly if they had been body-switched. 

It wouldn't have been the first time, Jim shivered, remembering That One Time. With the spores. No, no that /other/ time, with the... Well, /this/ time, Jim was reasonably sure spores hadn't been involved. That wine, however, may have made things a /little/ more difficult than they needed to be. 

"I am going to die." Spock informed thin air, and Jim's head whipped around to stare at him. Spock wasn't looking at him. He had curled up into a ball, and stayed there, when the door slammed. He... had his hands up against his face, covering his eyes, but Jim could tell he was crying. Again. Or /still/. Or /something/. Who knew if it was Spock talking in his head - sometimes he did that - he'd never confronted Spock about that, but he'd /thought/ there was something shady in the way he sometimes heard Spock's voice outta nowhere. At night. /In his head/. Were they... /connected/ or something? Maybe it was the older Spock's fault...

"Captain." 

That voice, again, reminded him, and he looked down to see the shell of his first officer, eyes hidden behind his hands, informing him, again, that he was going to die. "When?" Jim asked sharply, wondering if he could put it off at all, even, for a /day/. Cheating death was something he was very good at. 

"As soon as we return to the ship," Spock informed him, in a voice that was prim, but shaking, "If, in fact, we are rescued before the dawn. If we are not, then I shall die at daybreak. Either way, I will not /live,/ with this.

"Jim, understand, I..." Spock's hands shifted their grip, and instead clutched around his stomach. Jim wondered if he should call for immediate medical attention, but then remembered that Bones /wasn't with them,/ and if Spock needed anything, Jim was going to have to provide it. In copious amounts. 

Spock hadn't finished his sentence, but Jim hadn't interrupted him, so he finally continued, "I will not... /do this/ to you. Jim..."

Jim looked up in surprise. "Do... do what? Spock, why-why would /you/ die? /I'm/ the one who's gonna get court-martialed to hell for letting things get this far! You /have/ to follow along with my stupid-ass decisions - that's part of your /job description!/ - and I am so...so sorry." The wind went out of Jim's sails and his shoulders slumped unconsciously. He bit his lip for a moment. "Spock... I-I can't explain..." 

And he couldn't. As he fell to his knees, hands hovering over Spock's form, refusing to touch him for fear some further indignity would be wreaked upon him and Vulcan as a result, Jim realized that for once in his captainly life - which, admittedly, had only lasted about six months so far - he did indeed /regret/ something he had done. 

Because he had done /this/. 

/He/ had reduced Spock to a shivering wreck on the floor of a concrete cell on some planet far, far away from /wherever/ the Enterprise currently was. It would be /hours/ before she returned, /hours/ in which Spock, and Kirk, would be locked in this cell, alone, together, with a security camera whirring over their heads, watching their every move. And they had been given some /pretty/ EXPLICIT instructions on the hustle down the hall to this cell. That was presumably what was causing Spock to cry like a little baby. 

/God, is he really such a virgin?/ Jim wondered as he hunkered down over Spock's form and pondered whether to pull Spock's hands away from his face, or if that would simply cause the poor man to cry /harder/. 

"Dude, are you seriously... Come /on/, man, what is /up/ with you? It's just a little, you know.... nookie. Between friends? It doesn't have to /mean/ anything! I mean, I know you're involved with Uhura, and I'd /never/ move in on your territory, or /hers/, or... God, this is complicated. Spock! I /promise/ you, buddy, we're gonna be all right. No matter what happens, I am /sure/ Mr. Scott is looking for us, right this minute, and if he isn't, Bones is probably all up on his case, because he /knows/ how often /I/ get into trouble on away missions--"

"That is not true," Spock informed him distantly, still not looking at him. "I have calculated the probability that /any/ member of the Enterprise crew, even the most astute individual, will determine our exact location, and beam us out before.../daybreak/ occurs, and that probability, Jim - do you wish to hear it? - It is, zero point zero zero zero zero ...zero...zero.../zero/..../five/ percent." His voice started cracking as the zeros added up, and Jim wondered breifly, in some sick corner of his mind, if this was being recorded as some sort of tear-jerker romantic film for the native's pleasure. /More like a rom-com plus the **porn** / Jim realized with a dropping stomach. /Oh God. Maybe even a snuff film?/ 

"Jim, please do not think such thoughts in my vicinity - because of my compromised emotional state, I can hear /everything you are thinking!/" Spock informed him with an increasingly hysterical tone.

"Wait. You... dropped your shields? In a place like this!? Spock, wait, why did you-"

"I cannot /control/-" he broke off, tried to compose himself. "I cannot... control myself... in your presence. Remove yourself. If possible."

"It is bloody well /not/ possible, and you know it! Spock, what, is, /up/-- Oh. Oh God! It's, it's not - S-Seven years, cycle, it's not..?"

"No! No." Spock shivered harder, and curled in on himself, scooting farther away from Jim. "No. If it was, I would be dead already. You do not know what happens, during... The Time. And you will /not/ know! You should not know it exists! Who--"

"Well," Jim began, as tactfully as he could muster, "Do you know.... the Ambassador? Of Vulcan?"

"Ambassador Selik." He spoke the name with a kind of dark anger that made Kirk wonder exactly how many words those two had exchanged, and about /what/, exactly. 

"Yeah. Him. It was him," he added, somewhat sheepishly.

"He told you?" Spock grated out, in an even scarier version of the dark angry voice that made Jim fear for his spinal integrity.

"O-only, only the bare outlines. Symptoms and stuff. And that you would have to come back to the New Vulcan colony, no matter where we were, to... find a wife, when it happened. He didn't say why or, like, specifics or anything... I only know that, every time... every time you get angry now, I get... worried. I-I wonder, how far away we are. I don't think that was his intention, but I... I /worry/ now, every time you do something out of character, and it's... kind of making it hard for me to see what your character really is! He... The Ambassador had a really bad experience. His first time, on the Enterprise. He wanted to... spare you that."

"I had hoped I would be spared the entire ordeal." Spock sounded very glum.

"You may yet be!" Jim piped up optimistically. "You-you aren't /him/, you know. You guys don't have perfectly parallel lives."

"We did up until the Narada incident."

"Which was only, what, two years of childhood? That much may have set your character, but it didn't develop how you'd react to the world, Spock! Don't you know basic paranormal psychology?" he added as a joke.

"I did, in fact, study the psychology of Vulcans, Captain, but that is irrelevant at the moment."

"No, I think it's completely relevant! Because you freaking out, this, this, this /sobbing/ thing, is not going over well with me. You need to tell me what's /up,/ man! This is /not/ normal."

"It is quite simple," Spock replied, sitting up and bravely staring him /in the face/. Kirk felt, actually, somewhat scared of him all of a sudden. "/I/, do not touch you."

"Well, I... I never said you /had/ to!"

"I would have to, in order to complete the act required of us by our captors. Do you remember, /Cadet/," and Jim flinched at the epithet. "Do you remember the last time I touched you, for a prolonged period of time?" 

"Yeah. Course I do." Jim was fairly certain he would never forget The Choking Incident on the bridge of the Enterprise. Back when he wasn't technically Captain, and when Spock wasn't techically his First Officer. But really, if Selik was to be believed, they always had been, and always would be, /that/, to each other. If nothing more.

"Clearly my human heritage has... been a disadvantage, in more ways than one."

"Didn't you--" Kirk burst out, "Didn't you /insult/ the Vulcan Science Academy for telling you your mother was a disadvantage? What are you doing, talking about her like that /now/?!" 

"I should rephrase," Spock conceeded dully. "My /Vulcan/ heritage, is the issue this time. I /must/..." Spock paused, and purposefully unclenched the hand that had formed into a fist without his conscious consent. "I must..." he continued in a faraway voice, still staring at his disobedient hand. "I feel a duty to the species, Kirk. I do not expect you to understand. Humans are incredibly prolific, but Vulcan children are quite rare. With how highly-placed my father is in Vulcan society, there are certain... traditions, protocols, behaviors, expected of me. And to fail in this regard, to fail, again, my father's people..." He didn't finish. By the expression of horrified empathy on Kirk's face, he didn't need to. "I am more Vulcan than human, James, and I refuse to invert that equation." /He would rather take the Vulcan punishment, for not being perfect, than the human one?/ Jim pondered. /Both seem like kinda shitty options./

"Earth is the only home you have left - you said it yourself!"

"But I will forever be a stranger there. You are aware, perhaps, what it is? To be a stranger in one's own house?" Jim flinched at that. He did know. /Frank./

"But, so, why can't you assimilate?" Jim asked rhetorically, knowing Spock would /never/ give in to /any/ sort of narrow-minded criticism, especially from his /captain/, of all people. 

"It would require much effort to change all my thought patterns, all my behavior patterns, and I would never be adequately human!" Spock retorted with what sounded like vitriol in his voice, surprising Jim. "This is evidenced in every interaction I have with the Enterprise crew."

"So, you're not exactly great at being Vulcan, but you're worse at being human?" Jim summarized, scrunching up his nose in confusion. "So, you mean, you're afraid? Of the change, of failing at something else? This is... This, is /comfortable/ for you! Is that why you're crying? Is that why you're not-- Why /are/ you crying?"

"I have failed," Spock informed him simply. He blinked at him with those huge, /human,/ eyes. 

"Failed /how/?" Jim asked exasperatedly. "This entire mess is /my/ fault, and if you blame /yourself/ for this, I will personally write you a demerit!" 

"You cannot blame a man for the thoughts he holds in his own head."

"True," Jim countered, "but you're not quite a /man/, are you?"

"Neither am I female, Jim, and thus I conclude that this congress will conclude unsatisfactorily at best. There is no evidence in my admittedly... meager store of knowledge regarding /you/, that would indicate that you would enjoy a homosexual encounter."

"What, you feel it's your duty to make me /enjoy/ our punishment now!? Are you crazy? Spock, just how much of this 'I must preserve and protect the integrity of the Captain' bullshit have you taken to heart, exactly? You are /my assisstant/. In /administrative/ matters. I-I do the running around, and the getting shot up, and the-the going to the conventions and whatnot, and being the pretty face, and you get to do all the paperwork that /I/ don't want to and /you/ seem to love. You do not have to /fuck/ me! For the sake of the /mission/! You shouldn't /have/ to. It's not in your job description! The, the fact that you /do/ is... Spock, this whole thing is /wrong/, I.... I regret it. I'm /sorry/. Okay? No, I mean, that doesn't make it okay, but... I am, sorry. And you-you should just go to sleep. Or meditate or something. I'll, I'll try to work something out with the captors." Jim turned away after that little speech and expected that to be the last of it. It wasn't.

"If you intend to involve yourself in a physical altercation with our captors, you will most definitely need my /assistence/. As back-up. Since I have five times the stregth of an average human. Which I believe you to be. In all respects."

Jim actually fell back against the wall, face going slack. "Are-are you serious? You, you think I'm /average/? You think that any of the crewmen could, could, could do /my job/? You tellin' me I'm not... Spock... You really think that lowly of me? No wonder you don't wanna fuck me. Why would you even want to talk to a /loser/?"

Spock exhaled against the wall he was curled in towards. "I do not know how to abbrogate your emotional distress, Captain, as I am in some distress myself regarding the situation."

"Look, I'm not- I'm no spoiled pup with a silver spoon in its mouth, okay? You know my history, you've read it, you know... what I had to do to survive back then."

"I do," Spock admitted, "but you also will admit that I have... if I was human, fully, I would have more cause for distress at this situation, than you."

"What are you /afraid of/, man? It's, it's not like I'm gonna get /pregnant/ or something!"

"It will be very difficult for me to fulfill my Starfleet oath with /my hands around your hips/," Spock replied in a clipped voice.

"Haha... actually, man," Jim joked, "how d'you know it's you who's gonna be doing the fucking?"

Spock turned around and looked at him seriously at this. "You will provide me with whatever circumstances I deem appropriate in order to get through this punishment."

/Shit,/ Jim realized. /He's right./ "Of course you're right. God," he exhaled, disgusted with himself. Then he had a sudden epiphany. "But... but does that mean you're willing to do it? To-to get us out, I mean?"

Spock cocked his head. "You are still... 'sore,' I believe the term is, over the percieved insult to your... specialness?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, man. We can talk about that later, okay? I have issues with needing to be the center of attention -- that doesn't have anything to do with this."

"You are, in fact, quite the center of attention if that security camera above us is functioning correctly." He hesitated, and lost his captain's attention. 

"Jim," he called. "I do not... trust myself." Jim turned back to him at that. "In all honesty," Spock continued, "I am not confident in my ability to remain detatched from the... sensations, were we to engage in sexual congress."

"What does that... mean, exactly?"

"It means that, I may, lose control," Spock whispered lowly, as though admitting to some shameful weakness. Well, he'd been doing that a lot tonight, and Jim didn't care. "Again," Spock continued. "You remember, I presume, how I attacked you on the bridge." It wasn't a question. "How I nearly...strangled you."

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm... I'm not about to forget that, that's for sure. That's, that's gonna be in the ol' personal log for... quite a while. I, uh--"

"Then you understand," Spock cut in, "Why it is a dangerous idea to allow me to lose control with my hands upon your flesh."

"Do you think it would just be choking again?" Jim asked. "Cuz, really, man, I can /handle/ that. Long as I get a /little/ air, I mean..." Had he been standing, Jim would have scuffed the toe of his boot against the ground.

"Erotic asphixiation," Spock replied in wonder. "I.. should have expected it from you."

"Is that an insult?" Kirk asked jokingly, one corner of his mouth twitching up. This was the Spock he knew. If he could just keep Spock in this mental headspace, where he could insult Jim all he wanted, and feel superior, and not threatened by this thing that men did /every day/, across the whole damn galaxy, if they had the requisite parts for it.... then, Jim would be happy. And this would be a success. 

Of course, he was willing to downgrade his expectations to 'both of us alive come dawn,' and call /that/ a sucess. 

"Spock, you... you wanna try a little... experiment?" /That should appeal to his science-y mind./

"I... do not understand." That was his 'requesting more information' tone. Jim knew a lot of Spock-tones by this point. The about-to-die-of-shame tone had been new, and he wasn't salivating to hear that one anytime soon.

"Try, Spock. Just /try/ touching my face." 

"The face has....significance in Vulcan culture that I am not sure it possesses on Earth--"

"I know, I know, it's... melds. But, don't /do/ one, okay? I /believe that you can/," he eununciated purposefully, trying to obliquely key Spock in on the fact that he wanted a meld at some point, since it'd be a great communication channel that their captors couldn't monitor, "...simply... put your hand, on my face. And, and hold it there, for a while. Without losing control. I-I /trust/ you. I believe in you. /Can/ you do that?"

Spock swallowed nervously, but attempted it, unfolding one hand from where it had a death-grip on his deltoid, and stretched it out towards Jim's face. Kirk leand eagerly into the touch, slightly too eagerly for Spock's comfort, but.... When they touched, it felt /right/, in an undefinable way. Simultaneously warm and soft and cool against his palm. And there were entirely positive mental eminations. 

There was some worry, understandably, for his crew and his own safety, but mostly... mostly Spock. Mostly Spock's life, mostly Spock's comfort.... mostly Spock. "You are thinking of me," Spock informed him without any inflection in his voice. 

"Yeah...yeah." Jim admitted, realizing how insanely stupid and pointless it would be to lie to a touch-telepath /with his fingers on his face/. "I... /I'm/ okay with this whole... deal, and what we might need to do to survive, but you're not, so I wanna... I wanna calm you down," he sighed, realizing he'd lost that battle by admitting to it, "I wanna... wanna make sure you /don't/ 'accidentally' commit suicide tomorrow morning. I want you to live," he finished very quietly. "I will do a great deal to ensure that you live, Spock. You've been through enough! I won't make your family, or you, suffer, or /anyone/, Spock. I don't want /any/ of my crew to die, and you are... special. I mean, you are necessary, you... you're very useful..." /Fuuuuck, why can't I find the right words?/ Jim hissed under his breath. Spock heard him. 

"I can read it in your mind," Spock revealed kindly, his eyes softening at the corners as he 'read' Jim's sincere regard for him, Jim's sincere concern. Spock noticed, at the back of his surface eminations, there was a tightly-locked chest. And the chest was /rattling./ "Do I have your permission, Jim?"

"Jim?" Kirk asked all of sudden. "You never call me Jim--"

"I am attempting to imbue the moment with emotional significance," Spock told him seriously. 

"Ah," Kirk said, somewhat at loss for words. "But, um... permission for what?"

"May I, may I open the meld further? Your mind is... tantalizingly dynamic."

Jim hissed in and out a shaky breath and assented. "Y-Yeah. Yeah, okay. As long as I can, see into your mind, too."

"I would never hide myself from you, Jim," Spock told him seriously.

"But you don' wanna fuck!" Jim teased him coquettishly, complete with batting eyelashes. 

"You wish to. I wish to see your mind. You do not wish.... for me to see your mind. And I do not wish for you to penetrate my body."

"Ah," Jim said again, in saddened realization. "I mean, but, dude, I'm totally willing to let you in-- to let you in." he repeated himself, realizing only now how true the words were. 

"Hey, Spock, I... I think I would let you fuck me!" he whispered in astonishment. "I-I don't let anyone /do/ that, but... I know you wouldn't hurt me."

"I see no purpose in such an act, other than to amuse our captors." He had a sudden thought. "Jim--Captain. Would you... open your mind to me? And show me why you desire this act so much?"

Jim grinned almost leacherously, and Spock barely saw the edge of it around his hand splayed across Jim's face. 

"Oh, /baby,/ you don't even know what you're in for, do you?" Jim chuckled appreciatively, pleased that Spock wished for him to plaster images of graphic sexual penetration all over his consciousness. "Sure, I'll show you. Long as you can show me what's so great about this meld thing." He sobered a little. "It's always felt like blaring music, way too loud, I can barely stand it. It's possible to go by stages, isn't it? Cuz this doesn't hurt, this right now."

"I /am/ simply reading your surface thoughts. It would not hurt, nor would it feel pleasing, since it is analogous to touching only clothing, or hair. There are no nerves there, no direct connection."

"Hmm." Jim hummed his understanding. "Yeah, okay. I'm willing to let you... farther, I guess. Uh, lower? Deeper? More. Whatever, Spock. Just, more. /Please./"

And that whispered please, accompanied by his eyelashes fluttering shut, completely undid Spock. And he gave him /more/.

**Author's Note:**

> Come ask me things on tumblr: hawkbringerandstubby(dot)tumblr(dot)com


End file.
